the details of what had happened-the way his lips felt on her breasts, the scent of his skin, the sound of his moans as he buried himself deep inside her. Even now, she got goose bumps at the thought of the two of them, naked, limbs entwined.
“Be careful, Sophie,” she muttered to herself. It would be silly to get all wrapped up in this man. Yes, they’d enjoy each other again before they got off the island. But that was where it would have to end, with a physical need that begged to be satisfied. Any type of emotional attachment to Trey would be foolish at best.
THE HEAT HAD SETTLED OVER the island as the noonday sun rose behind the thin cover of clouds. Sophie shaded her eyes as she peered across the beach toward her destination. Even though she was alone, she still felt an overwhelming connection to Trey.
They’d already shared the most intimate of acts, but it was more than just sexual attraction that had brought them together. There was a bond now, a shared experience, forged when they’d both come face-to-face with death, a thing that made the sex they’d shared even more intimate.
As she waded through a shallow channel that fed seawater into the lagoon, Sophie wondered if she ought to just set up camp on the opposite side of the lagoon from Trey. Yes, he was charming and handsome and unbearably sexy. Just the kind of man it would be impossible to forget. How easy would it be to walk away from him? Or to watch him walk away from her?
Her mind was still occupied with those thoughts when she reached the ruins of the abandoned resort. She stood on the sand and surveyed what was left-a collection of crumbling
Sophie climbed the stairs and tried the door and to her surprise, it opened. She walked into a huge room, with sunlight filtering through the slats of the rotting shutters. It was nearly empty of furniture and the air inside was stuffy and stale.
Though Trey’s shelter was admirable, this small house offered much better protection from the rain and dampness. She walked to the nearest window and unlatched the shutters, then pushed them open. Daylight splashed across the floor and as Sophie looked up, she noticed writing on the whitewashed walls.
She opened a few more shutters and began to read. The walls had become a logbook of sorts for passing sailboats. Over the past thirty years, people from all over the world had anchored inside Suaneva’s reef and left messages on the walls.
She wandered over to a low counter against the far wall and picked through a meager assortment of canned food. She’d heard of the tradition, how sailors would trade something from their stocks, for something left behind on many of the deserted islands in the Pacific. She searched through the tins, examining a can of smoked oysters and another of beef stew. At least they’d have something for dinner if they didn’t catch any fish.
The steel water tanks were set behind the cottage in a small meadow, about fifty yards from the back door. When Sophie reached the nearest tank, she searched for an outlet. She expected the faucet to be corroded and impossible to open, but to her surprise, it turned easily. Obviously, passing sailors had taken advantage of the water supply, as well.
When she’d filled the water jug, Sophie circled around the tank to find a makeshift shower hooked up to a second faucet. But then, something else caught her eye-a small grove of trees, distinctly different from the coconut palms that grew on the island. Someone had thought to plant fruit trees thirty years ago!
She found mangoes, bananas and papayas hanging from the trees and scattered on the ground below, along with broken branches, blown off in storms. Sophie wondered how the fruit could grow in such poor soil, but as she approached, the answer was evident. The original resort owners had hauled in soil so that the trees might flourish. Squatting down, she gathered some of the fallen mangoes, using her pareu as an apron.
They had everything they needed to survive on this island for more than just a few days. With fish and fruit, firewood and shelter, not to mention drinkable water, they could survive on Suaneva quite easily for as long as they had to.
How long would be enough? Sophie wondered. Would a week with Trey dull this irresistible attraction? What about a month? Somehow, Sophie sensed it was better that they’d only have wait twenty-four hours to be rescued. Any longer and desire might turn into something much more serious.
3
TREY RUBBED HIS PALM, the skin nearly raw. As Sophie had suggested, he’d gathered wood from the beach on the other side of the atoll and had stacked it over a pile of dried palm fronds and old coconut husks. But building a fire was a lot easier than starting one.
He’d learned three methods during his time with Outward Bound. Without a flint, he was left with only two options. But then, a decent stick was also hard to come by on an island with nothing but palm trees, so he’d been forced to eliminate the bow-and-drill method. Left with the fire-plow method, he’d been optimistic about his chances to succeed. But for some reason, the castaway guy in the movie had a much easier time of it.
“That’s Hollywood for you,” he muttered. There was probably some expert there to make sure conditions were perfect. Maybe they even used matches.
Trey sat back on his heels. He should just admit defeat and use the matches. If he got the fire lit before Sophie returned, she’d never know that he cheated. Besides, it was ridiculous to pin his manhood on his ability to start a fire. They were living in the modern world, so why not use the conveniences available.
He looked around the camp, now very quiet without Sophie’s presence. A man alone would go crazy living on this island, he mused. Hell, a man living with Sophie would probably reach the edges of sanity on occasion, as well.
Just one look at her was all it took for the fantasies to start spinning in his head. Her body was enough to tempt the most devout monk to break a vow of celibacy. And then there were her very open-minded views on sex. She seemed quite at ease discussing her desires-and his, as well.
Naughty talk had always been a turn-on for him, but this was different. Sophie wasn’t doing it to play games. She was simply being honest about her passions-and her curiosity. He’d never met a woman quite like her and Trey had to wonder how deep her curiosity ran. What limits would she be interested in testing now that they were alone on the island?
Trey knew it wouldn’t take much to convince her to make love with him again, to let him strip off her clothes and possess her body. From what he could tell, she wanted him as much as he wanted her.
But in just a matter of hours, he’d become obsessed by thoughts of her…of her body…of the way she made him feel when she touched him. She’d changed the way he felt about sex. With other women, it had been all about release, a need to momentarily lose himself in a warm and willing body. But there was something else pulling him toward Sophie, something much more powerful that just physical desire.
“I have lunch!”
Trey looked over his shoulder to see Sophie approaching, the water jug in one hand and her pareu gathered in the other. Though she’d only been gone an hour, he realized he hadn’t stopped thinking about her since she’d left.
He slowly stood and brushed the sand off his knees. “What did you find? The local mini-mart?”
Sophie frowned. “Mini-mart? What is that?”
“Convenience store? Gas-and-go?”
“Oh,” she said with a smile, finally understanding. “No. No mini-mart. But I did find some fruit trees.” She stepped beneath the tarp onto the blanket and dumped the load of fruit onto the ground. “Mango,” she said. “Papaya. There were bananas, too, but I would have needed the knife to cut them down. We can go back later.”
“Wow,” Trey said, joining her beneath the shade of the tarp. “This is great. I can see you would have done well in Outward Bound.”
“I would have definitely seduced you before the red-haired girl did,” she teased.
